Tuesday's Training TIP: Don't Wait for Stuff to Happen

Stuff happens. Sometimes stuff happens in a way that causes you to relive events in your mind, thinking, "if only...." Other times stuff happens that leave you wondering, "Wow, how did I do that?"

IF ONLY

A week and a half ago we were getting ready for a long weekend trip to the city. I fed the dogs and went outside to load our Hawken wood furnace before shutting it down. With the non-winter we've been having I thought the embers might smolder the whole time we were gone and then it would be a simple matter of flicking the switch when we returned.

I raked the coals to an even bed. With "poopsicle-picking-up" gloved hands I hoisted an 18 inch long, maybe 15" diameter log from the woodshed. Doesn't sound very big, but it was a heavy sucker. At the door of the Hawken, I heaved it.

WARNING: Those of you with squeamish stomachs might want to skip the next three paragraphs.

The word "exquisite" is often used to describe indescribable pain. Double that. And add sharp, severe, agonizing, piercing, excruciating, and just plain gut-wrenching to the word PAIN. In one fell moment, the log punched the interior roof of the Hawken and rebounded, cracking my left ring finger between it and the damning steel frame of the door.

I did not see the stars that suddenly blinked brightly back into the just-after-dawn sky. I did not see the brilliant embers that shot up like fireflies when the dastardly log flipped into the fire. I did not even see the darkness when my eyes grimaced shut as I jumped three feet back clutching my hand against my roiling stomach.

What I did see when I peeled off my glove was a Niagra rush of red-hot lava from a jagged fissure crossing the length of my finger.

Oh man! wasn't quite what I exclaimed.

A trip to the emergency room and surgery five days later left me with pins in my distal phalanx (which was completely broken in two) and stitches to hold everything else together. 

Ouch. Bad log.

WOW

Five days after hand surgery, FLD Scout and I took a working stroll with Phyllis and FLD Autumn in downtown West Branch to practice loose-leash heeling near traffic. The Future Leader Dog pups did very well with street crossings, railroad tracks, steps, and passing strangers. As is typical during outings like this, we found unexpected training opportunities.

Phyllis coaxes FLD Autumn up a short flight of stairs.

The spring-like 50 degrees and sunshine brought out a motorcyclist, who was just leaving an auto parts store as we passed. Inches away when the engine roared to life, FLDs Scout and Autumn sniffed in curiosity and exhibited no fear. Of course, the machine was not a Harley.

FLD Scout is not alarmed at all by this motorcycle.

We knew it was time to head back to the van when a very tired FLD Autumn sat down and refused to continue. After some cajoling, we managed to move her along. Then FLD Scout started pulling toward the grass like she had to "park." I removed her working jacket, released her with an OK, and let her sniff out a spot. We were on the south side of the busy five-lane Houghton Ave.

That's when it happened, the one thing you never want to happen. 

Scout bolted.

I had hold of the leash with my mangled left hand; Scout had been sniffing to my right. Her whiplash departure north toward Houghton Ave. jerked my hand. I knew if I tried to hang on I would be reacquainted with that double dose of exquisite pain. I let loose the leash while simultaneously lunging for it with my right hand.

The leash slithered out of reach like a spooked garter snake.

SCOUT! I yelled with a megaphone voice. I never heard Phyllis, who shrieked "Scout!" in harmony.

Scout paused in the middle of the right lane and looked back. Luckily there was no traffic heading east, but out of the corner of my eye I spotted a red car motoring west. I dropped to my knee. I knew if I took another step forward it was all over--if Scout turned away from me and kept running, she wouldn't even see what hit her. 

The world disappeared. It was just Scout and me.

Scout! Come! I said in the cheeriest voice I could muster. A subtle shift in her shoulder. Yes, good girl! I leaned back onto my heel and slapped my thighs to encourage her to come to me. I could almost see a thought-balloon form above her head: "I wonder if she has a treat for me? Hmmmmmm, I'll bet she does. Maybe I'd better check it out, I don't know where I was racing off to anyway."

A full turn and Scout was bouncing my way. Before my heart beat again, Scout and I were reattached and celebrating on the sidewalk. OF COURSE I had a treat for her! Good girl, Scout!!!!!

HOW DID I DO THAT?

PRACTICE. PRACTICE. PRACTICE.

• Name recognition. Practice everywhere and any time.

• On leash recall. Practice in public buildings, at puppy outings, outside in the yard, while on walks, etc.

• Off leash recall. Practice inside with my other dogs.

• Never, never, NEVER chase her. (Playing "chase ME", however, is always good.)

• And having the presence of mind to react in a manner that brought FLD Scout's attention back to me, instead of a reaction that would spur her on. (Calling her name ONCE, NOT chasing her, making myself interesting by getting down low, praising her at precisely the right moment, and rewarding her correct decision!)

WHEW. Disaster averted.

If only I had been that diligent in placing wood into the Hawken!

Sitting calmly on the north side of Houghton Ave. by the railroad tracks. (FLD Scout is safely tied to the bench. FLD Autumn is wearing a "Gentle Leader" to help her keep a loose leash.)

OBSTACLES--Traffic Exposure When There is No Traffic

 

Cait Macanliss, over at Dogstar Academy is the host for the 6th Assistance Dog Blog Carnival (ADBC). The topic for this edition is OBSTACLES.

To learn more about the ADBC, or to find links to past editions, check out founder Sharon Wachsler's post on her blog, "After Gadget."

What follows is my submission.

Sometimes being aware of ones obstacles is the first step in overcoming them.

When we moved from the city to the country last year, I worried about being able to provide enough diverse experiences for my Future Leader Dog puppy. So, I purposefully made efforts to bring FLD Gus, my puppy at the time, to town at least once a week. Twice a month we also made trips to the city and FLD Gus continued to get exposure to crowds and traffic he didn't get up north.

Read my post from the 4th ADBC, "Living the Difference" and you'll see that I eventually calmed down about it all and continued raising Gus to the best of my abilities.

Enter FLD Scout, my fourth Leader Dogs for the Blind puppy. Scout shares the same mother as my second puppy, Mike, who went on to work with Eric, a young man from Spain. (Read my post from the 3rd ADBC, "REACTIONS: Meeting LD Mike's New Handler.") Funny how these posts seem so connected!

In spite of continued trips to the city, FLD Scout is the first puppy I'm raising while living full-time in the country. A rural lifestyle does create obstacles in exposing Scout to heavy traffic, an important aspect in raising a Future Leader Dog. Scout wasn't with us very long before I realized that she wasn't getting the experience she needed.

We were out on our driveway one morning in September practicing loose-leash walking, and I saw the neighbor-kid, Ryan, spinning around on his BMX bike while waiting for the school bus. I headed his way, always open to distraction opportunities.

Hi Ryan, I said as he skidded to a stop in front of us. FLD Scout froze, unsure. Scout, sit, I said to redirect her attention. Everything was new to her, so I helped her little butt to the pavement.

This is Scout, I said as I straightened up. Can you help me train her? Ryan agreed to ride slowly by a few times, keeping some distance until Scout learned that a boy on a squeaky bicycle was okay.

That strategy worked. After only a few pass-bys, Ryan was able to coast right up to Scout, his tennis shoes dragging. She leaned toward him with her investigating nose, but held her sit. Go ahead, you can pet her. Ryan leaned over too, and made fast friends.

I heard the school bus rumble round the corner a mile away at Wiltse Road and start laboring up the grade. Ryan sped off to drop his bike in his yard and hustled to grab his backpack that was lying against a tree.

Another opportunity! I heeled FLD Scout off to the side of the road, had her sit, and waited for the bus to arrive.

The bus groaned to a stop. Scout startled. As I bent over to reposition her back into a sit, the bus's air brakes let loose. Scout bolted in the opposite direction. When she hit the end of her leash she was like a snagged fish fighting to stay out of the boat.

Scout! Sit, I commanded, gathering up the leash. I had to put her in a sit. Good girl, Scout! She glanced up at me. Good girl! I said again and rewarded her name recognition with a bit of the puppy chow I always carry in my right pocket. She lost interest in the scary yellow monster, which had quieted to swallow Ryan.

Scout, heel, I said and walked further away from the bus before it roared back to life.

Here was an obvious obstacle. How was I to expose FLD Scout to heavy traffic when the school bus twice a day was about the extent of it on Brady Road?

Off to town we go!

We walked one block north, south, east, and west, crossing busy M-33 at the only traffic light as many times and from as many directions as we could. Then, for 20 minutes or so, I sat on the peeling paint of a weathered bench on the east side of M-33, just north of the light, with FLD Scout positioned in a sit beneath me. Tandem log-haulers, propane delivery trucks, and a steady stream of commercial freight transport vehicles rumbled by us north and south.

FLD Scout looks up at me as we pause to watch 18-wheelers thunder by us.

"You sure about this?" she seems to ask.

Before long, Scout relaxed into a down and seemed to enjoy the parade.

FLD looks south...

...and north at the passing truck parade.

FLD Scout takes traffic in stride, now. I still make sure to take her to town--in the last week she's been to the Post Office, doctor's office, and Big Bob's Restaurant in Hale, Glen's grocery store and the pharmacy in Rose City, and Home Depot, Wal-Mart, and Subway in West Branch.

Guess we're getting out and about more than I realized!

Four months later, FLD Scout is bored at the same peeling bench, this time accompanied by Phyllis and FLD Autumn.